The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

All of Arnold's resentment had flown right out the window the moment he saw Asher.

Asher said, "You must've been worn out over the past few days. You haven't eaten yet, right?"

He lifted the plastic bag in his hand, waving it in front of Arnold. "I remember you saying you don't eat carbs, but if you're feeling pressured or exhausted, you would reward yourself with some fried chicken. I bought fried chicken for you. I'm not sure which flavor you like, so I bought a few."

Arnold's throat bobbed, salivating with anticipation.

In the end, he still let the man in.

However, Arnold maintained a little of his pride and gave Asher a cold face, sitting on the chair indifferently as he tried hard not to look at the handsome man.

"As a doctor, saving lives is my duty. Even if it's not Chairman Thompson, I'll still do my best. You don't need to be so polite."

"Are you mad?" Ignoring his indifference, Asher asked softly instead.

Arnold's eyelashes fluttered. "Who... Who's mad?"

you're not mad, why are

in knots, his face flushed, and he

his lips were tightly pursed, and his eyes and nose were red, looking like

fried chicken from the plastic bag and opened the

hard." His voice was hoarse, carrying a

beat, and he met Asher's deep gaze

carefully, then sat down slowly in front of him. "It's just that my family is here, and my father is sick. I am the eldest son. I have to take care of my

chest heaved, and his nose tingled again. He quickly grabbed a fried chicken and took a bite.

deeper as he stared at him. "Eat more. You've lost

fine, but remember to bring ketchup next time.

up, his lips curling in a satisfied

"Yes." Asher nodded seriously.

pretty face magnifying in Asher's eyes. "Then do you like

eyes glinted with charm, drawing Arnold in